Gemotions

The email arrived at precisely 6:00 AM, as if the sender, Emily, knew it would interrupt Mr. Davies' meticulously planned morning routine. She'd been a challenge, always questioning, always pushing back, and now she was a successful lawyer. The subject line, "Thank you, Mr. Davies!" already set his teeth on edge.

He deleted the email without opening it.

He opened the email again, despite himself. A link to an article she'd written. About him. A glowing tribute to his teaching. He wanted to scoff. He imagined her, preening, basking in the glow of her own self-importance.

He closed his laptop, a familiar knot tightening in his stomach. He sighed. It was the only way it would end. He poured a cup of coffee. He decided to read the article before he threw it in the trash.